Breakdown of a Haunting

It dawns on me, with as much talking and writing as I've done about the results of our paranormal investigation, that the one place I never talked about it was here, on the site designated for posts and stories about the house.  Ummmm.....sorry about that!  Rather that rewrite or copy and paste all the stories from the websites on which they were posted, I will provide you with a comprehensive list of links so that you can find everything about everything all in one place.

But first.......the verdict.  After a wild and crazy and insanely spooky night, three teams of paranormal investigators and two local radio personalities all came to the same conclusion, the one I came to after less than a week of living in my country castle: MY HOUSE IS HAUNTED.  Not just haunted, but EXTREMELY haunted.  We don't just have a ghost, we have several spirits occupying multiple rooms in our house.  The master bedroom, the basement....even our yard is haunted!  Not only are the ghosts "intelligent" and able to communicate with the living by responding to questions asked and completing simple tasks (whistling, dropping things, etc.), but they communicate with each other, which, by all accounts, is extremely rare.

So, without further ado, here is the breakdown of our haunting, complete with photos and audio files: (Disclaimer- Stop reading now if you're home alone and get spooked easily!)


Here is my original blog post for Army Wife Network's Loving A Soldier blog, where I explain why I think our house is haunted, and what led to us being chosen for 97.5 FM's fourth annual paranormal investigation: Paranormal Activity: Army Edition.

After an absolutely insane night during the investigation, and a pretty spooky few days that followed, I wrote about what happened that night.  Here is my personal take on the investigation after it was over, but before we got the "official findings" from the investigators: Others.

Even though I knew our house was haunted, I was absolutely not prepared for what the investigators found during their review of all of the information gathered during the "ghost hunt."  Read about it here: Paranormal Activity: Army Edition- The Conclusion.

97.5's Josh Strickland wrote about the experience as well.  Read his take on it here: Paranormal Investigation: The Shocking Conclusion.

One of the paranormal investigation teams, Marter Paranormal, posted their findings on their website.  See what they had to say here: Marter Paranormal: Grand Ledge Residential.


Are you freaked out yet?  Ready to hear the craziest part of all?  We have ZERO plans to move.  We love our house, ghosts and all.  I even find myself talking to them sometimes when I'm home alone.  We don't feel threatened, and according to all of the "experts," we're in no danger.  So, for now, we're staying put.

The Little Ghost Boy Caught on Film?!

These photos were taken by investigators during our paranormal investigation, just seconds apart.  In the first photo, you see a very distinct mist surrounding the tire swing.  In the second photo, it's completely gone.

Paranormal Investigation

Last week I got an early morning random text from one of my very best friends.

Her: "Please tell me that you tried to get your house on 97.5 for their paranormal investigation!!!  Call Strickland right now, last chance to nominate your house!!!"

My immediate response: "Noooooooo!!  I don't want to make 'them' mad!!"

But then I thought about it.  I've listened to the Paranormal Investigation every year.  And truth be told, the thought crossed my mind that I should submit my house this year as soon as I realized that it's haunted.  BUT.....I feel like if we do have a ghost (or multiple ghosts), we're currently co-existing peacefully.  I really don't want to disturb that peace.  But.....how freakin' cool would it be to be "The Paranormal Investigation House"?!

I struggled with my buts (insert joke here, then notice that I only used one "t" in the word but), and then gave in to my adventurous side.  On the last day, at the last minute, I submitted our house for consideration.

AND WE WON.  Won?  I don't know if that's the right word.  I guess we'll see.  I'm really excited at the thought of having the house researched and investigated.  But I'm also really, really nervous.  Because I REALLY don't want to make "them" mad.

The ideal result of the investigation would be to find out that there isn't a "them" at all.  I realize that would make for a disappointing story, but I would be thrilled to have an official "ghost free" stamp on our house.  My second choice?  To have my thoughts confirmed....that there are "others" here, but they're not dangerous.  To continue in our peaceful coexistence, with maybe a better understanding of each other.

But what if something goes wrong?  What if we find out that what we're living with is something that's not safe to live with?  Or what if we upset them, and what was once a peaceful coexistence becomes very unpeaceful?

Only time will tell.  In the mean time, I'd appreciate any kind thoughts, prayers, etc.  And I'll keep you all posted on when/where you can hear all about our Paranormal Investigation!

Visit the 97.5 webpage for more info:   97.5 FM Paranormal Investigation

Surprise!

Hindsight is 20/20.  Looking back, it all makes sense now.  Looking back, the warning signs were there.  But sometimes things happen that are so shocking, so unexpected, they are simply unpredictable.

Take my day today, for example.  It started out great.  I slept in, watched some TV, made plans for the errands, housework, and back-to-school stuff I wanted to get done, talked to The Hubs, even took a nap.  (Don’t judge me….it’s been a LONG week.)  And then it started….

I was right in the middle of a conversation with The Hubs about my upcoming trip to Texas when I heard a noise that stopped me mid-sentence.  A high-pitched, squeaky noise.  A high-pitched, squeaky, mouse-like noise.  And I hate rodents.  HATE RODENTS.  I cope better with the increasing possibility that my house is haunted than I do with the fact that living in the country means that, from time to time, we’re going to get “critters.”  I had a mini-freakout, then sat, silently, listening for it to happen again.  About two minutes later, it did.  This time, though, it was louder.  And it sounded like it was coming from outside, which I was okay with.  I like nature.  I just don’t like it in my house.

Reassured, I forgot all about the squeaky thing after my nap.  I got up, went into the kitchen, and was making myself a sandwich when my seven year old Pomeranian mix, Sammy, came flying around the corner, almost as if he was chasing something.  I watched in horror as he cornered whatever “it” was underneath the bench in the foyer.  I was paralyzed with fear.

I tried to convince myself it was just a bug.  But the crazier my dogs went, the more certain I was that I wouldn’t be getting off that easily.  I didn’t know what to do.  When I say I hate rodents, what I really mean is that I’m absolutely terrified of them.  So I came up with a plan, albeit not a very good one.  My in-laws were coming over later, so I would keep an eye on that corner of the house until they arrived, then have my father-in-law investigate.

Unfortunately, my adult ADD foiled those plans.  About ten minutes after the dogs forgot about the creature hiding in the corner, I forgot too.  It was the last thing on my mind when I decided, at 2:00 in the afternoon, that it was finally time to take a shower.  I grabbed a towel, headed into the bathroom, flipped on the light, and then……and then I screamed, probably louder than I’ve ever screamed in my entire life.  There was something in the toilet.  Something alive.  Something treading water.  I didn’t stay long enough to figure out what it was.

I slammed down the toilet lid in hopes that “it” wouldn’t be able to escape, closed the bathroom door, shoved my towel into the crack underneath the door, then pushed a chair against the door for good measure.  By the time I picked up my phone, I was borderline hysterical.  So I did what any hysterical girl would do.  I called my husband.  Who was 1,200 miles away.

“There’s something swimming in the toilet!” I screamed, before he could even say “hello.”

“One more time?” He asked, caught off guard and trying to stifle a laugh.

“There is something alive, swimming in our toilet!” I screamed again.  “The squeaking, the thing in the foyer….whatever that was, it’s now in the toilet.  And it’s alive.  It’s treading water!  I think it’s an otter.”  I was no longer borderline hysterical.  My hysteria was full-blown.

“What would you like me to do about it?” The hubs asked in that incredibly rational way that drives me crazy when I’m being completely irrational.

“Get it out!!” I yelled.  Obviously.  And therein laid the problem.  As much as my husband would have loved to be my toilet-monster slaying hero, he couldn’t.  He’s stuck in Texas and I’m stuck at home, fending for myself.  That was the real reason for the frustrated tears rolling down my cheeks.  Well, that and the baby alligator that had taken up residency in my bathroom.

I’m used to taking care of everything myself.  The kids, the house, the pets, me.  I manage it all on my own when The Hubs is away, which is most of the time.  But it’s a very fragile balancing act.  One so fragile that when the unpredictable happens, it doesn’t just tip the scales, it causes them (and me) to come unhinged completely.  And I’m reminded, yet again, how much this long distance nonsense sucks.

But because I had no other choice, I put on my big girl panties, dried my tears, and dealt with the problem myself.  Which did not, I repeat, NOT, involve me getting rid of “it” on my own.  I did what any hysterical girl with an absent husband would do….I called my dad.

For inquiring minds….it was a chipmunk.  Seriously?!  Who finds a chipmunk swimming in their toilet?!  Only me….

Proof

They say a picture is worth a thousand words.  So I'll keep my words short.  I woke up this morning and found this at the end of my bed.  All in all, there were six footprints, one right and five left.  They ended right at the very edge of my bed, facing the bed, as if whoever they belong to climbed into my bed.  

I am meticulous about my house, if they'd been there before I went to bed, I would have seen them.  Even still, before I mopped them up, my kids and I (who are the only ones who've been in the house in the past few days) all got our feet wet in the soapy water to compare footprints.  These belonged to none of us.

I guess I always sort of knew we weren't alone in the house.  Well....here's my proof!!

Goings-On

It's been a while since I've posted anything about the goings-on in the new house, but not because there haven't been any.  For one thing, I've been INCREDIBLY busy with the release of my first book (that still feels so weird to say, by the way.)  For another thing, I've gotten comfortable in my new home over the past three months, despite its....quirks.  So the things that bothered me in the beginning don't really scare me so much anymore.

But today I was reminded just how creepy my house can be, and I started thinking about all the things that have been happening lately that I've been turning a blind eye to (or trying to, at least), and now I'm thoroughly creeped out.  So, let's recap:

Things That Go Bark In The Night:

My dogs, who weight a total of 25 pounds between the two of them, are pretty quiet by nature.  They bark when someone comes to the door, but that's about it.  We live on a very busy road, a highway in fact, so they're used to 24/7 noise.  That's why I was sure someone was here when, about a month ago, my Sammy Dog started barking ferociously at the back door in the middle of the night.  It woke me up out of a dead sleep, and my adrenaline was already pumping.  It was 3:00 in the morning.  What. The. Hell.  I grabbed my phone and headed to the back door, where I looked out the window and saw....nothing.  There was nobody there.  Still, Sammy kept barking.  What's more, he was standing so that he could see out the window that looks over the porch, and appeared to be looking right at something, or someone.  But there was NOTHING there.  I looked out all the windows, and even did the whole "are you kidding me, how stupid are you?!" thing and opened the door and went outside to investigate.  There was nothing.  Nobody.

After about five minutes, Sammy calmed down.  So I went back to sleep.  Less than a half hour later, it happened a second time.  After the third time, I gave up any hope of actually sleeping, and turned on the TV.  In total, Sammy started barking at the back door five separate times that night, and the same thing has happened on a handful of occasions since.

Sophie, our puppy, likes to sleep in bed with me.  Demands it, actually.  Probably about once a week, usually right around 3am, she gets up, goes to the edge of the bed, stares out the bedroom door, and barks. And barks.  And won't stop unless I get up and turn the lights on.  Once I've confirmed, for my own peace of mind, that there's nothing there, she stops.  But as soon as the lights go off again, she starts barking again.  No rhyme or reason to it whatsoever, it happens so frequently that it doesn't even freak me out anymore.  I think I've accepted that there probably is "something" there, and I've made my peace with it.

Alarming:

One of the very first "Oh my God, what is going on in this house?!" things that happened, which I've talked about before, was the smoke detectors going off for no reason, even after I replaced all the batteries.  That hasn't stopped.  Usually in the middle of the night, but sometimes in the middle of the day, the smoke detectors in the main hall and in my bedroom start going off for no reason.  Not while I'm cooking (which would be understandable), not when there are candles burning, just whenever.  One day, I got home from work and they were both going off.  Who knows how long my poor dogs had been listening to that horrible screeching.

It got so bad, I made my landlord replace one of the smoke detectors, the one that was going off on an almost daily basis.  He replaced it last week, and I haven't had an issue since.  The one in my room, however....well....we'll get to that in a minute.

Batsh!t Crazy:

Last week, I came home from work to what I thought was doggie doo on the living room floor.  Not the best way to start an evening, but not totally unexpected, as I'd just started leaving Sammy out of his crate during the day a couple of days prior.  I went and grabbed a plastic bag, the disinfectant spray, and some paper towel.  It wasn't until I bent down to clean the mess that I realized it wasn't doggie doo at all.  It was A DEAD BAT.  Those of you who know me know that I do NOT deal well with rodents of any kind.  They terrify me.  But I'd never before encountered a bat.  A winged rodent is pretty much the worst thing I can think of, dead or alive.  I screamed, grabbed both of the dogs, and ran outside.  I sat in my car, bawling my eyes out, with the windows rolled up and the doors locked, until my father-in-law showed up and removed the bat from the house.  

I've never in my life had such an intense physical reaction to fear like that.  I was literally paralyzed with fear.  It was awful.  The immediate concern, of course, was rabies.  I took the bat to animal control the next morning as soon as they opened, and had the bat tested.  It was negative.  So that was a HUGE relief.  But then I started thinking.  How was there a dead bat in the middle of my living room?  According to my father-in-law, who got the only up close and personal look, there was no apparent trauma to the bat.  It hadn't been mauled by the dog, (which was my first thought), and the theory that it had flown into the ceiling fan was shaky at best....there was no blood, no injury, no nothing.  It was just dead.  In the middle of my living room.  Weird.

Today:

So here's why I'm telling you all of this: Today, the weirdest, most frightening thing to date happened.  Something that has me rethinking my whole "sure, we have ghosts, but they seem to be nice ghosts" stance.  I was home alone, in the bathroom getting ready for the day, when Sammy, who'd been sleeping out in the main hall, came running towards the bathroom.  Sophie, of course, followed him.  Right as they reached the door, a smoke detector started going off.  Sammy jumped up on my legs, so I picked him up.  He was shaking like a leaf.  Not a fan of physical affection in his old age, the way he buried his face into my hair and held on to me for dear life was quite out of character.  I scooped Sophie up in my other arm and went to investigate.  By the time I reached the part of the house the noise was coming from, it had stopped.  Still, Sammy wouldn't let me put him down.  When I tried, he started clawing and scrambling and dug deep gouges into my chest and neck.  Did I mention he was still shaking?

I headed back to the bathroom, where I brushed my teeth with one hand, held Sammy with the other, and kept reassuring Sophie, who was at my feet, that everything was okay.  After about two minutes, the smoke detector started going off again, causing Sammy to sink his claws into me yet again.  I set him down and went to investigate.  It was the smoke detector in my room.  I climbed up on a chair, took it off the wall, and disconnected the battery.  As soon as I climbed back down, Sammy was in my arms again, still shaking.  He made me carry him around with me for the next hour.  He's just now starting to calm down.

My husband suggested that he was just scared of the noise, which would most certainly be understandable.  Those detectors emit a horrible noise, one that I'm sure hurts the dogs' ears more than it hurts mine.  But here's the thing....they've heard it before.  Many times.  And while they don't like it, it's never been cause for either of them to completely freak out like that.  Not only that, but they came running for shelter BEFORE the smoke detector even started going off.  Today was too much for me to just "brush it off" like I've done in the past.

Today really made me think.  All along, I've had myself convinced that if there is someone or something in our house, it's friendly.  It leaves us alone, we leave it alone.  No sage burning, or ouji boards, or paranormal investigators.  Just peaceful coexistence.  But now I wonder.....what if this "thing" isn't as harmless as I've always imagined it to be?  What if this is just the beginning?

Exhibit C: Bells and Whistles

As if the creepy cat and creepy cable guy weren't enough to keep me up at night, there have been other occurances around the C Family Estate that are absolutely unexplainable.  (I make this claim in spite of all the possible "explanations" I've been given for the things that have happened.)

The same night I found the front door unlocked and the back porch light burned out, something else happened....probably the scariest thing to happen in our new house to date.  It was my third night in the house, my first night with the boys there, and as I was upstairs with them helping them get ready for bed, the smoke detector in the foyer outside their rooms started going off.  Figuring it was the battery, I snatched it off the wall and yanked the battery out.  I wasn't cooking, there were no candles burning, and the other two smoke detectors within a five foot vicinity didn't go off, so I wasn't worried.  I carried the smoke detector downstairs with me and set it on the bench in the main hall, so I wouldn't forget that the battery needed to be replaced. 

A little while after my house-wide search for the psycho-killer cable guy, just before I went to bed, I went into the kitchen  to get a glass of ice water.  I set my glass on the stove, steadying it with my left hand, as I opened the refrigerator door with my right hand.  When I reached into the freezer to get a handful of ice, an electric shock surged up my hand and arm that was touching the stove.  I screamed, knocking the glass of water to the ground.  Man, did it hurt!  I checked to make sure none of the stove burners were on.  They weren't.  I made a mental note to call my landlord first thing in the morning.

Shaken up, and with my arm still aching, I went to bed.  I tossed and turned until about 3 am, when the smoke detector in the main hall started going off.  "Are you kidding me?!"  I grumbled as I jumped out of bed, stumbled my way to the front closet, pulled out the step ladder, and climbed up on it with my eyes only half open.  I ripped the detector off the wall, removed the battery, and was too tired to give much thought as to why two different smoke detectors would go off on the same night.

Those thoughts didn't begin until around 6 am, when a third smoke detector, the one in my room, started going off.  I shut it off before it woke the boys, and did another quick check of the house to make sure nothing was burning anywhere and there was no smoke coming from anything.

It's been argued that the landlord probably put all the batteries in at the same time, so of course they would die within a few hours of each other.  I don't believe that.  Especially since they were all different brands.  I verified with my landlord that the detectors are solely smoke detectors, not combination carbon monoxide/raydon detectors.  The only explanation is this.....our house is haunted.  We have a ghost.  I like to call him "Jokey the Ghost", since he thinks he's so funny.

The next night, as I was doing the dishes, I heard someone whistling in the back yard.  I turned off all the lights so I could see better out the window, and spent a good fifteen minutes on my hands and knees peering out the bottom of the big picture window, looking for the culprit behind the very loud, very deliberate, very unmistakable whistling.  I saw nothing. 

I told my husband about it.  I think he thought I was crazy.  Until the following night when I was in the bathroom, right around the same time, and heard it again.  The exact same sound.  I freaked.  Then I thought about the stop light just a couple houses down, the one that goes from a four way stop to a blinking yellow/red light at right about the same time I keep hearing the whistling every night.  I considered the fact that it might be some sort of audible alert that the light is about to change for the night.  But then I decided that was just silly and way too logical.  It was definitely something else....but was it Jokey the Ghost, or the Creepy Cable Guy with the pic axe??  That's the real question.....

(P.S. Try as they might, neither my landlord nor his maintenance guy can get the stove to "shock" them like it did me, even though it's happened to me a few times since, and happened to both of the boys over the weekend....I guess Jokey's a little shy when it comes to strangers.)